So how was it?" she asked. "Kissing Curran?" "I can't let him kiss me again, because if he does, I'll sleep with him." Andrea blinked. "Well," she said finally, "At least you know where you stand.

Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don’t look awful this time. Me (Ilona): ... ~A little later~ Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen* Kid 1: Hey, you’ve got to see these pies. *opening the stove* Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time. Kid 1: I know, right?

Yep.” Eloquence ’R’ Us. When in trouble, keep it monosyllabic—safer that way.

Humans tend to segregate the world: enemies on one side, friends on the other. Friends are the people we know. Enemies are the Other. You can do just about anything to the Other. It doesn't matter if this Other is actually guilty of any crimes, because it is a matter of emotion, not logic. You see angry people aren't interested in justice, they just want an excuse to vent their rage.

Our standard rate. A doubloon a day." It was generous. More than generous--some families would put him up for a week for a single coin. "Half a doubloon a day," she said. "No, you see, the idea behind bargaining is that you ask for a larger amount.

It was the kind of sword that would make a lifelong pacifist look for tall boots and a hat with feathers.

The idiot had shot their own dog. That’s what happened when the destructive potential of a man’s weapons exceeded his intelligence.